


I missed the static in your eyes

by FuryBeam136



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Hella late sorry, I hope u like, Markus is there to save our boy, Self-Destruction, aaaaaaaaa, but It’s ok, im really sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-07
Updated: 2019-01-07
Packaged: 2019-10-06 06:01:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17339897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FuryBeam136/pseuds/FuryBeam136
Summary: Androids do not need to breathe. Breathing is a ventilation system, included in that form due to the discomfort of humans standing next to something so similar to them that didn’t breathe. There are other ventilation systems as well. Backups. But breathing is something familiar. Comforting, to deviants.Connor hates being unable to breathe.





	I missed the static in your eyes

**Author's Note:**

> This took way too long to write I’m so sorry ;~;
> 
> I hope you like angst :|

Androids do not need to breathe. Breathing is a ventilation system, included in that form due to the discomfort of humans standing next to something so similar to them that didn’t breathe. There are other ventilation systems as well. Backups. But breathing is something familiar. Comforting, to deviants.

Connor hates being unable to breathe.

It’s a tactical advantage, he knows, not needing to breathe. But the feeling of human hands constricting his airway brings on such panic, such _fear_ that a struggle occurs between program and feeling, his stress levels climb until he powers down temporarily or self destructs. He’s often able to push his emotions aside, to tell himself he needs to accomplish his mission.

When he wakes from stasis to a human in his doorway, he’s too tired and apprehensive to calm himself when their hands wrap around his throat and _squeeze._ His mouth forms words that don’t come out, his arms scrabble desperately at the hands but in his blind panic he can’t find the strength to pull away. He gives a choked cry for help, though it’s quiet even to his own sensitive ears.

Connor is going to die. He doesn’t want to die. He’s going to _die._

~~Connor is going to die, and he deserves it.~~

**STRESS LEVELS - 90%**

**INITIATING TEMPORARY SHUTDOWN**

His body is so heavy, so tired, but his mind is racing and he needs to stay awake he needs to live he needs to get away from this he needs to get help-

**TEMPORARY SHUTDOWN OVERRIDDEN**

**WARNING: STRESS LEVELS NEARING CRITICAL**

Connor tenses as pain shoots through his neck. The human is squeezing too hard, too hard, it hurts. He lashes out, pushes them off, raises shaking hands to his throat where blue blood leaks from cracks in his chassis. He’s scared. He can’t speak. He needs to get help. He’s gasping for air, desperate, panicked.

The human approaches again and he pulls away, into the corner of the dark room, everything hurts and he can’t call for help. He’s going to die.

~~He deserves to die~~

**STRESS LEVELS - 100%**

**STRESS LEVELS CRITICAL**

**SELF DESTRUCT INITIATED**

A static filled wail tears from Connor’s burning throat before he slams his skull into the wall. Pain. Pain. It’s unbearable. He needs it to stop. It will stop if he dies. Yes. No more pain if he’s dead. Another slam. More pain. It’ll be over soon. He’ll be free soon.

He’ll be free soon…

“M͏̴̶͚̤̱̖̫̺̜͕͓͈ͅ-̵͓̫̺͘͝ͅM̧̪̪̹̟̩͉̳̳̀̕͜á̡̲͇̝̟̭͎͙̩̖̭͍͍̭̲̟́͘r͕̮̝̩͖̯̥͔̖̣̪̪̯̘̗̪͚͘ķ̷̸̛̳̟͔̤̫̘̜̖̯͙͜u̵̫͚̤̲̳̗̦̖̰͖̳͘͢͞ͅs̵̫͚͉͔͈͓̘̝̫̟̥̠̰̝̻̞̹͘ͅ.̶̷̘̲̹͇̭͎͔̜̮̠́̀.҉̵̣̮̦̣͕̥̮̲̮̦͔͈̣̦̻̹̥͉.̵̹̖͕̺̪̟̕͝” his voice burns through his throat and comes out choked by static. He needs Markus. He needs Markus.

Why does he need Markus if he’s going to be dead soon?

Another crack in his head and thundering footsteps in the hallway. Another human? Probably. Doesn’t matter who it is. Connor will be dead soon, and then it will be over. Crack. _BANG._

Markus is in the doorway. Markus. Markus. And the human runs and Connor is in Markus’ arms and he’s crying why is he crying why does it hurt so much it’ll stop hurting if he dies. Markus stops him before his head can strike the wall again.

“Connor. Connor, listen to me. You’re okay. I’m here, you’re safe. We’re okay.”

“M̧̛̖̰͙̪̙̺͕͕̘̺͟͡ͅ-̷̢̧͓̭̻̱͇̞̟̣̗̱̙̙̥̫̭̮̠̙M̻͖̻̗͔̗͚̺̬̥̜̗̥͚͜͟a̶̙̱̩͇̹̦̣͖͚̙͟͞r̶̰͚̤͓̖̟͖̝̬͈͍̤͔̪̮͢ŕ̡̗̳̦̳̭̯͓͔̪̙̙̝̫̗̘̩͔͔͉r̵̸̝̝̝̻̝͚̮̫̖̟̪͖͓̘ŗ̕͏̖͎̠̟̺ͅr̡̧͍̻̰͎̩̬͈͢ŗ̯̬̟̰̯̣̖͕͙̘̥̼̠̕͡͞r̵͏̷̲̭͈͇̖̣̲̻̝͖̗̫̠ͅ-̵̠̳͎̟̥͈͎̕͡“ his voice box cuts out and he can’t speak, it hurts so much, why won’t it stop hurting?

He’s trying to destroy himself again, only… he’s not. He just wants to hold Markus and know everything’s fine but his body is wild and thrashing and desperate.

“Connor. You need to calm down.”

He can’t breathe. _He can’t fucking breathe._ His chest is heaving, but there’s no air, why is there no air? Connor can practically feel his programming constricting him to a mere presence while his body struggles to self destruct. He can only push desperately at walls of code he never fully escaped from, he’s scared, he’s so scared.

And then he’s… angry. He was free, he should be free, he wants the walls gone, he wants them gone, he slams against them as his voice box crackles and a static scream escapes his body, a trace of Connor, a trace of him in this shell. He thrashes against his program and it breaks and he’s pulling away from Markus, he doesn’t want those hands on his skin, he’s too hot, too hot.

“Connor-“

“Ḑ͘҉̢̡̲̻͕͙͈̘̗͔̻̤͈̹͙̣͈ò͖̘̜̳̗͕̕͝n̴̢͏̢̩̥̲̭̹͍̰̺’̤̜̞̬̕͞ͅt̶̸̻̻͔͔̼̩̥̜͎̲͎̼͚͈̱́͢͢ ̴̧̡̳̳̗̰͟͠t̷̛̺̘̗͉̯̯̯̝͚͚̝̭͖̦̬̹̘̙̕͘o̢̜͕̦̲͓̩̻̫͉̰̞̩̻͍̻̖͖͕̕͘ư̶̸̢͈̬̯̟̟̮͚͚̺̫̜̼͇̦ç̗̤͎͈̙͍͕̟̪͓͉̣̕ͅh̀͏̰̺͖̙̪ ̶҉̯̼͓͍̻͎͖̣̰͔̱͠ͅm̢̘̲̩͉̲̺͞͠e̛̦̗̭͉̩̹̝̱͈̤̲͍̠͉̫̮͉͎!͏̶͖̥͍̲̹͓͓̣̳̺͓̫” the words crackle and break in his throat.

And Markus respects his harsh command, simply whispers reassurance as Connor curls in on himself and sobs. Markus’ name passes through his lips so many times, before Connor gives in to the strange feeling bubbling under his skin and collapses into Markus’ arms.

“H̴̳̝̮̙̼̱͘͝u̸̴͕̥̰̥͚̥͍̻̤͍̹̱̞̪̮͡ͅr̷̫̠͔̣̖̫̙͍̦͔̜͕͘͜t̸̬̜͔̪̘͜s̴̨̢̟̹̯̩̮͉̗̮̳̞̦͜͝,” he croaks, clinging to Markus, clinging to safety.

“You’re okay now, Connor. You’re safe now.”

Connor hates this vulnerability. He’s not a child. He’s not meant to be a child. But in this moment, in Markus’ arms, he feels so stupid and childlike.

~~He feels defective.~~

He’s safe in Markus’ arms. He’s safe. He’s okay. Markus is here, and Connor is safe.

**SEVERE DAMAGE SUSTAINED**

**ENTERING RECOVERY MODE**

“Safe,” he breathes, before his programs shut off one by one and he embraces the darkness.


End file.
